Tucker Archer

Archive for August, 2011|Monthly archive page

Chapter 243: If I Had a Dollar

In Uncategorized on August 31, 2011 at 1:33 am

If I had a dollar for every time I’ve been knocked unconscious since I started traveling, I’d have enough money to burn this place to the ground and build an exact replica of the Burj Khalifa on top of the rubble.

Fine. If I’m going to play along with them, I have to keep my cool. It’s never been my strong suit, but there’s no other way out of here.

This isn’t right.

I feel…wrong. Could they be doing something to be here, suppressing my desire to revolt?

No. No. That is crazy.

No doctors here now. Wonder when they’ll return.

Chapter 242: What Seems Like Hours Later

In Uncategorized on August 30, 2011 at 9:17 am

I’m whimpering from the pain by the time the doctor comes. She looks familiar. I’m sure I’ve met her, but I don’t know her name anymore.

“What…happened?” I choke out.

“We think you picked up a viral infection, likely from something you ate or a contaminated surface you cut yourself on while living in the tunnel system. It was very serious, but we think that since you regained consciousness relatively quickly after the incident, you can still make a full recovery.”


“Excuse me?”


“You were given a number of drugs to stabilize your condition.”


Chapter 241: Phantom Limbs

In Uncategorized on August 29, 2011 at 12:08 am

I feel like every hangover I’ve had in my life was collected, condensed, and injected directly into my skull. And every pore on my skin. I never realized you could feel pores individually, but trust me, you can. And my follicles. Every slight movement a strand of hair makes on my head is like a punch to the gut.

A nurse in pink scrubs appears, and she’s not one I remember from before.

“Oh! Oh my god. You’re awake.”

“What happened to me?” I ask.

“I…I’ll go get the doctors. I’m not supposed to talk to patients about their condition.”

Chapter 240: Aflame

In Uncategorized on August 28, 2011 at 3:53 am

My skin is on fire, and I can’t seem to put out the flames.

“I need 40 CCs of Cortelidone and 10 CCs of Heramax, now!” shouts a high female voice.

More pinches in my skin, and the fire gets worse. I realize, just now, that they are screaming to be heard over my own raw howls. I also can’t remember the last time I breathed in.

And then, icy cool relief.

“She’s stabilized,” I hear a cool male voice say over my face, but I can’t for the life of me recall what those sounds signify.

And then, they are gone.

Chapter 239: The Lights Above

In Uncategorized on August 27, 2011 at 3:45 am

My first thought is: It’s too white.

The ceiling. Oh, it’s the ceiling I’m looking at. But why is it so white?

Oh. Lights. Rows of those long tube lights in the ceiling.

So bright.

I turn my head to one side, to make the white go away.

Then everything goes black.

As if from a distance, I hear ragged beeping from a machine.

There is movement all around me, hands rolling me to one side, fingers pulling skin tight, sharp steel stabbing into my arm. I can hear all the words they say, but I don’t remember what they mean.

Chapter 238: A Sudden Rush of Nausea

In Uncategorized on August 26, 2011 at 3:04 am

There is a sharp pain in my stomach, followed by a nauseous cramp so severe I roll out of bed and crash to the linoleum, shuddering.

I lose everything in three violent bursts from every orifice. Stinking, gagging, I cry out.

No one comes.

I am sure that I am dying. My body has finally given in to the ravages of traveling between the worlds, and it is caving in on itself.

I drag myself across the filth and bang my fists against the door. I am weak, but they should still be able to hear me.

Why hasn’t someone come?

Chapter 237: As Is Was Be Am

In Uncategorized on August 25, 2011 at 1:26 am

I spend the rest of the afternoon (or what feels like the afternoon) staring at the ceiling. My hands start shaking at one point. I breathe shallow and fast, and eventually it stops.

Fine. I’ll admit that there is something wrong with me. But whatever it is, they did it to me. And I’m not crazy. I’m talented, not unhinged.

If I had known biding my time was going to be this terrible, I would have killed myself the first time the boys in black showed up in my life. Or never gone to M2’s aid.

I hate these ceilings.

Chapter 236: Cover Story

In Uncategorized on August 24, 2011 at 3:00 am

Well, I’ll say this for them. They picked a very convincing lie to foist on me. The disease, if these materials can be believed, is real. And if they were going to trick me into thinking I was unwell, this would be the best way to do it.

I’ve taken in too much information today. I really should lie down.

I make my way back to the simple cot, take a drink of water from the plastic carafe they left for me, and slide beneath the crisp hospital sheets.

My head hits the pillow. Despite my exhaustion, sleep won’t come.

Chapter 235: Eyelids Getting Heavy

In Uncategorized on August 23, 2011 at 2:54 am

My eyelids are aching, but I decide to read the last article in the pile before returning to bed.

Interictal Psychosis Presenting With Fregoli Syndrome

Harpreet S. Duggal, M.D., D.P.M., Western Psychiatric Institute and Clinic, Pittsburg, PA

Interictal psychosis in patients with epilepsy is highly correlated with temporal lobe epilepsy. A 30-year-old woman was admitted with first break psychosis of acute onset characterized by disorganized behavior, loosening of association, auditory hallucinations, and persecutory delusions.

The patient had no prior psychiatric history and family history was noncontributory.

Other conditions associated with Fregoli syndrome include stroke, head injury and Alzheimer’s dementia.

[J Neuropsychiatry Clin Neurosci 16:543-544, November 2004]

Chapter 234: Fusiform Gyrus

In Uncategorized on August 22, 2011 at 3:01 am

I pause for a drink of water, then read on.

MRIs of patients exemplifying Fregoli symptoms have shown parahippocampal and hippocampal damage in the anterior fusiform gyrus, as well as the middle and inferior of the right temporal gyri. The inferior and medial of the right temporal gyri are the storage locations for long term memory in retrieving information on visual recognition, specifically of faces; thus, damage to these intricate connections could be one of the leading factors in face misidentification disorders. Such damage may cause disruption in long term visual memory and lead to improper associations of human faces.